A Glimpse
by SingleHearts
Summary: "He looked at her. She looked at him. It was all relatively simple. This is how they communicated, by looking at each other's eyes without ever blinking." Sometimes we need to see it to believe it still exists. (Scott trying to follow his mother's advice after the pack fell apart).


**I know I tried to say something with this. What it was exactly i was trying to express, I can't quite yet figure it out. Don't take this too literal or personal. (Don't take it into a ship war, please don't. This fic doesn't have the ammunition for that.) I hope some of you might understand what it was i was trying to have come through with this fic.**

 **I've been having what some of us call "a writers block." But today I just turned on my laptop opened word and poof the work below was typed out. So, in the great awareness of my lack of involvement with FanFiction lately i decided to post the only work i was able to actually finish. I might hate it tomorrow or in a few hours and might regret posting it, but I am posting it now so ehh I'll deal with my shame later.**

 **I'll take this opportunity to also mention that i have not given up on Unkiss Me (i know it is almost unfair to state that but..) I have written a new chapter but am very displeased with it, as a matter of fact I am displeased with the whole fic (shame on me, once again). Maybe it has to do with my "writer's block" but i have a difficult time with Unkiss Me. Hopefully i will have an update soon...hopefully. [Its okay to hate me, I get it]**

 **Well I hope you sort of enjoy this fic.**

 **Review if you can.**

 **Until next time.**

* * *

He looked at her. She looked at him. It was all relatively simple. This is how they communicated, by looking at each other's eyes without ever blinking.

Scott usually caught the exchanges, when he wasn't completely lost in transfixion with the several problems that presented themselves before him. Sometimes they were subtle, other times they were intense enough to create tension. But they were always there, peeking out through hidden corners when nobody else appeared to be looking.

Today, Scott was looking.

Donovan and Theo were the topic: secrets and trust; guilt and forgiveness. Choices and decisions - right from wrong - but so much misunderstanding, which is what those two names carried with them wherever they were pronounced. They were a burden, and also a trigger.

He scented it. It was like a wound that never healed, a scab that was repeatedly scratched off at every opening of a new day, releasing blood that smelt of acid and rancid.

Scott sighed. They, themselves, each and every one of them, will never be the same. He knew this, but he still hoped. If he didn't, then who would?

Stiles stayed silent. Throughout the mention of Donovan he didn't look up, not until the very end when the room came to its quiet still.

That is when Scott caught it, the glimpse.

Malia had been hidden in the background, becoming almost invisible to everyone except for Stiles who immediately lit her up to Scott with the attention of his eyes.

She'd been listening, attentively, with wide scowling eyes, a layer of glistening moisture over her brown orbs.

She wasn't judging. Malia never did. It wasn't in her nature to judge. He discovered this of her when she stood beside him searching for Liam and Hayden after he demonstrated, time and again, that he wasn't quite fit to be an alpha. He was reassured after Stiles told him that Malia had known, she had known about Donovan before Scott even had, and she hadn't condemned him like he had.

Malia wasn't like him, and he was grateful for it.

Stiles had been right; they can't all be true alphas. Not even him, so he should stop pretending to be one.

"Stiles."

It had been the third time his name had been called. Scott had been lost in his thoughts as well; he could not remember when everybody had stopped to look at Stiles.

"It wasn't your fault." Scott heard his mother whisper. "None of this was anyone's fault." Her voice grew thick and stern, filling up empty holes in their collapsing chests. It wasn't silly. The fact that a mother's reassuring voice still had the power to soothe them wasn't stupid. Even after all they had been through, the loss and the pain, at the end of the day they were all still just kids.

Stiles simply looked down, away from guilty sympathetic eyes.

Scott wanted to look away as well, but he couldn't stop himself from looking at Stiles. He wanted to tell him his mother was right, that _he_ had been wrong. He wanted to convince him, no not convince, he wanted him to _know_ that he wasn't a killer. Scott wanted Stiles back; he wanted his best friend, his brother to look up.

The confessions continued with Liam making an entrance, explaining the reasons behind his anger and disappointment. Each confession wounded Scott even further. But his mother had been the one of the idea of putting all the cards on the table and Scott had agreed.

He'd lost the respect and trust of his pack, something that can never be forgotten no matter how much it is remedied. They will never disremember the pain he caused them, and he didn't want them to. He didn't deserve it.

"Malia."

Kira called out in a soft voice. Scott's attention snapped to the Kitsune who hadn't spoken a word until now. She was looking towards the were-coyote with a sad concerned expression.

Malia stiffened. Liam had stopped talking to look at her; they were all looking at her except for Stiles, who accidentally turned to look at Scott with pleading eyes instead.

"I don't think I should be here," Malia took a step forward slightly coming out of the shadows she'd been standing in.

"What do you mean?" Scott frowned taking a step forward as well, breaking that awkward crumbled circle they'd all been standing in.

Malia's eyes flickered quickly from Scott to Mrs. McCall.

Malia didn't know much about families or packs. She'd spent most of her life living alone, depending only on herself. Yet, standing here she felt like she knew enough about families to distinguish one when she saw one. And the one standing before her was one. Broken and with missing pieces, but it was still a family, a pack.

Coyotes didn't belong in packs. They hunted alone.

"Malia I know that I haven't -"

"I'm not like you." She cut him off, her eyelids fluttering to sustain angry tears. "I'm not like any of you."

The room stayed silent. Scott didn't know exactly how to respond. They weren't meant to be like each other. They never were. He was finally beginning to understand this, but how to let them all know.

"I don't save people. I can't. I tried." Her eyes were quickly filling up with tears, her bottom lip quivering along with her pupils. Scott moved forward again, feeling an urge to comfort and protect her, but she stepped back pulling up a shield.

"I don't belong here," she stated with vigor. Her eyes steady, her frame firm.

Scott suddenly felt trapped. His mind caught within four walls. He was feeling claustrophobic and useless all over again. His fingers instinctively wriggled to reach for an inhaler than no longer rested in the bottom of his pocket.

He'd just brought them all together (well, not all of them). They had just begun to stitch their pieces back together, pulling thread and needle through raw forgiveness. It was all a painful process but they were doing it, and now Scott could feel the thread slipping, loosening, his pack falling apart all over again.

"Malia what happened with Tracy wasn't your fault. Sometimes - sometimes we can't save everyone, but –," his tongue felt heavy in his throat. What did he expect to tell her, them: Sometimes we can't all be heroes, but we should try? Because that is what he had asked of them, to be some idealized noble knights. Scott wanted to do _good_ , to do always the right thing. But doing always the right thing was a cry far from reality. It was like asking them to reach for the sun, which he had, and he'd almost watched them all burn alive.

"I think we all need a rest. We've said and heard a lot today. We just need some time to let everything sink in." Mrs. McCall interrupted and Scott gave her a shy thankful glance. His mother had saved him once again. "Liam and Mason, you two can stay here for the night. Kira –," his mother turned to look at the Kitsune. "My father is picking me up." The Kitsune responded and Mrs. McCall gave a slight nod.

Malia was staring hard at a window when Mrs. McCall called to her as well. "I have my car," Malia quickly responded and Scott saw his mother frown. That wasn't the answer Mrs. McCall had been searching for, but she let it pass.

Scott then turned to look to Stiles.

He knew about the jeep, and about the fact that it was no longer running the streets of Beacon Hills. Scott also knew that every night that Stiles had earned the courage to return home, he'd been returning to an empty house.

If anyone should stay in his home tonight it should be him, Stiles. But Scott knew that the crack between them still predominantly existed, like a deep gorge. It will take longer time to fill. Right now it was still too early for either one of them. So, Scott didn't extend the obvious invitation knowing too well that Stiles would refuse it. His mother didn't ask either, she simply insinuated with a tender mention of Stiles' name.

"Umm, no it's okay. I should probably head back to the hospital anyways." Stiles silently responded, his head still slightly bowed.

"If that's the case I could take you, let me just grab my jacket – "

"No, its fine. I'll - "

"I'll take him." Malia carefully stepped in, offering in her own abrupt fashion. "I wasn't able to go yesterday."

Mrs. McCall stopped in her tracks and turned to look from Scott to Stiles taking a glance at Malia who was standing in-between. "Okay," his mom dropped her coat back on the kitchen chair. Mrs. McCall seemed at ease with this arrangement, but that is because she couldn't hear Stiles' rapid heartbeat or Malia's. She wasn't able to scent the fear and anxiety emanating from both Stiles and the were-coyote. But Scott did have the power to detect it all.

He also had the advantage of knowing when and where to look. And he was looking, right when Mrs. McCall turned away and Kira looked down towards her phone, right when Liam and Mason turned to look at each other, Malia and Stiles spoke through their eyes.

It was a brief moment that stretched on forever. It was a silent exchange that spoke volumes. It was a vulnerable and private moment between the two of them, which Scott had invaded.

"Well, you two better hurry off. It's getting late, and visiting hours for Malia will be over soon."

Malia and Stiles broke their contact, and nodded towards Mrs. McCall before heading out the door. Scott watched them as they headed for Malia's car. They didn't speak once to each other, almost maintaining a cold distance between them. Looking like two scolded kids who'd jumped miles back after touching a boiling pot from different ends.

Scott's chest tightened and his hand instinctively reached into his empty pocket again. They were all more damaged than he imagined. Just when he'd seen some sort of silver lining, the walls came tumbling down again.

... _but he still hoped. If he didn't then who would?_

It was still easier to hope when one was able to see a spark of light to ignite the flame with. If it was all pitch black, then even he wouldn't be able to find the way.

Scott looked out the window once again, not expecting to find anything, his hand still in his pocket, and his heart sinking low in his chest. If Malia wanted out of the pack, then he wouldn't blame her, and he wouldn't force her to stay. It was her decision to make, not his.

As soon as Scott had made up his mind, Malia's car ignited. Scott's attention was then brought back onto the pair situated inside the vehicle. Stiles was looking over to Malia, with a genuine tender expression Scott seldom saw from him. Malia was slowly turning up to look at Stiles, her brown deer eyes reflecting warmth and sadness. They sat a while like that just looking into each other's eyes and Scott was half expecting, with a painful dread, for it to be the last and final goodbye. But then, Stiles smiled. It was a soft light smile, one that stretched only slightly from one corner of his mouth. It was a good smile.

Scott seeing this, unknowingly, smiled too. It had been a while, he thought.

Malia might have felt the same as Scott because her eyes twinkled, and a grin spread over her lips almost instantly. And at that moment Scott knew. Scott knew they would all be fine. Hope hadn't faded for any of them yet. He was sure of it now, because he'd just seen a glimpse of it.


End file.
